Little Onmyoji Girl
by Shambhalasoulful
Summary: The unspoken tale of a chance encounter, wherein the past collides with the future.


**A/N**: Whew! This took forever and a month! Stupid laziness. Anywho, here's my first take on Mr. Nura Rihan, hanyou extraordinaire, co-starring a tiny Yura (is there any other kind?) with a big attitude. Enjoy, everyone! Feedback is always appreciated.

**Disclaimer**: No, I do not own _Nurarihyon no Mago_. And you should probably be grateful.

* * *

"There are rumors of multiple yokai exorcisms occurring across our land."

Shocked mutterings erupt throughout the large meeting hall as the clan leaders of the Nura Syndicate express their outrage. At the fore of their congregation sits a silent figure, black tangles of hair resting against his pale cheeks and brushing the collar of his robes. Unlike his comrades, whose mutterings have escalated to outspoken statements, he remains silent, brow gently furrowed in consideration.

"We should attack the onmyoji bastards!" Hitotsume Nyudo lifts his voice above the others, his one eye radiating deadly intent. "Those parasites have always been thorns in our sides, and now they've purposefully moved into our territory and drawn first blood. I see these incidents as an opportunity. Let us go to war with the exorcists and end this timeless feud once and for all!"

His passionate declaration is met with equal amounts support and disparity; shortly after his last word, his booming voice is overcome in the swell of debate.

"You are a true fool if you believe we could war with the onmyoji and escape unscathed." Hihi's quiet reason somehow cuts through the torrent of voices, his white mask glowing in the light of the lanterns. "Beyond their cold barbarism, the exorcists are gifted practitioners of the very elements that reject us. They contain power equal to our own in strength and numbers. Why do you think we've maintained an unspoken treaty with them for centuries? A war with them would only sow more animosity, with no side gaining victory over the other."

More sound mutterings, as the less bloodthirsty of the members agree with the Great Ape's calm logic.

"_Bah!_ You give the onmyoji too much credit. There is no way their numbers match our own. The Nura Syndicate is in its prime. Never in the thousand years since our birth have we been so strong, our influence spread so wide. Those bastards wouldn't stand a chance!"

"Delusions of grandeur will not win this war you wish to bring upon us, Hitotsume."

At the sound of their leader's murmured tenor, the yokai go silent, attention drawn to the front of the room like sheep to a shepherd. The amber eyes of Nura Rihan, dagger-like in their intensity, pierce the shade and zero in on the faces of his council. "I see no reason to engage the onmyoji."

Sounds of protest give Hitotsume the confidence to raise his voice above the masses again. "But sir, they have slain our own! Surely they must pay for their blatant actions."

"What proof do you have that these rumors are true?"

"I-" An uncomfortable silence falls in the hall, before the one-eyed clansman unnervingly lowers his gaze to the polished wood of the floor, passionate flames extinguished. "I have none, sir."

"So your riveting speech has no foundation but your own boredom and blood-lust. Ridiculous reasons for war, I'm sure you would agree." With a smirk, Rihan turns his attention to the rest, who bow their heads in reluctant agreement. "While the exorcists are our enemies by nature, that reason alone is not enough to risk the endangerment of our comrades and loved ones. Our current sovereignty is not something to risk so heedlessly. We are in a state of prosperity, now is the time to enjoy it."

"Yes, lord." The hall echoes with their subservience.

"As for the onmyoji sightings, we will keep our eyes and ears open to further news. So long as they do not engage us, we will not engage them." The smirk on Rihan's lips diminishes to a thin line, and he levels a hard stare at his council. "Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, lord."

"Then I declare this meeting of the Nura Clan closed."

The council members rise to their feet and bow as one before taking their leave. Rihan is the last to step into the moonlight filtering through the blooming blossoms of the nearby sakura tree, and he takes a relaxed breath of the fragrant air before turning to the figure stretched out on the veranda. "You were listening, old man?"

"There was nothing better to do at this hour." Nurarihyon takes a puff from his pipe, and Rihan watches the blue smoke rings drift lazily over their heads. "Despite his loyalty, Hitotsume always had a mouth that didn't know when to shut itself. You handled him well."

"Did you expect anything less?"

The former commander turns his gaze from the sakura tree to his son, eyes twinkling. "No, but your boy did. He's been complaining about your tardiness."

Rihan gives the man a blank look before slapping a hand to his forehead in self-punishment. "Gah! I promised him a story tonight after the meeting. I didn't expect it to run as late as it did."

His father chuckles. "Excuses."

"You would take pleasure in my guilt? No doubt Rikuo has been attached to Wakana's side with complaints. Which means _she_ won't be happy with me, either."

"Perhaps the situation is still salvageable."

Rihan removes the hand covering his face, curiosity bright in his eyes. "How?"

"When have I ever given you the answer to a problem? You have a solid head on your shoulders. Use it!"

The hanyou snorts. "This has nothing to do with fatherly lessons. You're just too lazy to put that big head of _yours_ to work."

A loud bark of laughter meets his testimony, and he smirks as he walks past, fondly patting his father's large dome. "Don't drink yourself stupid tonight."

Nurarihyon snorts in response. "As if that were possible."

Rihan calls back just as he rounds the corner. "In your old age, it is _now_."

* * *

"You're late."

Rihan enters his chambers with a contrite air, eyes shamefully lowered to the tatami mats. "I know. I apologize."

In his periphery, Wakana shakes her head with quirked lips, amused at his mope. "Don't apologize to me," she chuckles. "Apologize to _him_."

Lifting his gaze, Rihan sees his wife's attention fixed on her lap, where a small body reclines on its back, a tiny hand clutching the hem of her kimono. A fond smile enveloping his lips, Rihan lowers himself next to the pair, hand reaching out to gently stroke the mop of dual-toned hair on his son's head. "How long was he waiting?"

"Luckily for you, not long. Father wore him down with some pranks on the house staff. He fell asleep shortly afterward." Wakana levels a look at him. "But he _was_ asking about you."

"The meeting ran longer than I planned. Some of the clan leaders were insisting on starting a civil war with the onmyoji."

Her eyes widen. "Why? Things have been fine between us."

"There are rumors going around that a group of them have been exorcising yokai in this territory. Of course, all of the accusations are lacking grounds for truth. Everyone is simply bored." His gaze narrows angrily, even as his fingers brush tenderly through Rikuo's bangs. "They take our peace for granted."

The room descends into silence after his statement, and Rihan contemplates the added force he'll need to use before the idea of war is squashed completely. So lost in his thoughts, he jumps slightly when a finger pokes his forehead, and he turns to see a cheeky grin on Wakana's lips. "I take it the great leader of the Nura Clan put them in their place?"

The hanyou blinks at her, confusion lining his features, before a smirk gradually forms and he wraps an arm around her shoulders, gathering her close. "Of course."

"Then there's nothing to worry about." Simple logic, but she's always been good at keeping matters short and sweet, a gift he's found invaluable. To show his gratitude, he leans in to place an equally sweet kiss to her grinning lips once, twice, before she grabs the tail of black hair at his back and tugs it forward to keep him close. He chuckles at her eagerness and caresses the curve of her jaw with teasing fingers.

It is only the sudden movement on his wife's lap that stops Rihan from deepening the kiss and suggesting an early bedtime for the both of them. With a sigh against her mouth, he releases her and tucks a strand of brunette hair behind her ear. A warm smile curls her lips as she allows him to pull away, and they both shift their focus as the little body shuffles again, a small fist rising to rub at slowly opening eyes.

"Mama?"

"I'm here, sweetie." With a light jerk of her thumb, Wakana sends her son's focus to his father. "Look who finally decided to show up."

Rihan frowns, feigning betrayal. _Traitor._

With a series of blinks followed by surprisingly swift movements, Rikuo is up and toddling to his father's side, where he plants himself on his lap. His face is scrunched with ire, his chubby cheeks puffed out to match the pout on his lips. "You promised."

Rihan raises a hand to place on the boy's bedhead and runs the unruly strands through his fingers, giving him an apologetic smile. "I know, Rikuo. I'm sorry." He taps a finger against his nose. "I promise I'll make it up to you."

"How?" As the boy waits impatiently, Wakana straightens his sleep-rumpled pajamas, grinning as Rihan drums a rhythm on his chin in a melodramatic thinking pose.

"Well…_hmm_…I _do_ have a patrol I still need to go on…"

Both boys jump when Wakana jabs Rihan in the shoulder, and the man jokingly winces at her violence. "_Ow_. What?"

His wife eyes him, a gusty breath bursting from her lips, and Rikuo giggles as her bangs lift off her forehead. "You sure there's not anything _else_ you two can do together?" The emphasis in her tone is not lost on him, and Rihan releases a sigh and bounces Rikuo lightly on his thigh.

"I suppose you're right…"

Rikuo reaches a tiny hand to tug at his mother's kimono, eyes wide. "I can't go?"

His mother smiles apologetically. "I'm afraid not, sweetheart."

Pouting with a vengeance, Rikuo shifts his attention between parents. "Why not?"

"Patrol is a bit too dangerous at your age, Rikuo," Rihan chimes in, fingers detangling the boy's hair. "Mama and I just want you to be safe."

"But I'd be with _you_!"

"Yes, but I wouldn't be able to keep a close eye on you like I'd want." Before the boy can make another protest, Rihan places a finger to his lips. "Case closed."

For a silent moment, both parents mentally prepare themselves for a sudden barrage of big bottom lips and crocodile tears. Instead, Rikuo releases his own gusty sigh, and Rihan smirks at the imitation he makes of his mother.

"Okay."

They both release a pent-up breath.

"But you have to do something with me tomorrow!" Rikuo pulls his little legs from underneath him and balances his feet on his father's lap, hands gripping the dark green collar of Rihan's kimono. With his new height, he looks the man in the eye, and his ginger eyes radiate with childlike conviction.

Rihan places his hands against his son's cheeks, his face somber but his eyes glowing with jest. "My son," he says, voice grave, "I assure you. I _will_ keep this vow." And he grabs the boy close and plants a series of energetic kisses across his face to seal their pact. Rikuo dissolves into a puddle of laughter and bravely attempts to retaliate, only to have his arms pinned and his sides ruthlessly tickled. When Wakana tries to help him, Rihan wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her into the fray with a victorious shout, swallowing her laugh in a messy kiss. Rikuo takes advantage of his father's distraction and finds shelter in his mother's embrace, apple-red face burying itself in her chest. He's still a giggling mess when Wakana finally raps Rihan's forehead in scolding, bursting with periodic titters as he tries to capture them again.

"Bedtime," she says, eyes twinkling, and her husband reluctantly backs away.

"Lady Nura has spoken, eh?" Rihan watches as Rikuo peeks a look from Wakana's breast, and chuckles at the boy's tear-streaked cheeks. "Bedtime, little man. You heard Mama." He sweeps Rikuo's bangs aside and brushes a kiss across his forehead. "Sweet dreams."

"Night-night, Papa." Stretching his mouth around a yawn, Rikuo burrows further into his mother's arms, legs tucked into her stomach.

Wakana rocks the boy as Rihan grabs his sword and secures it to his belt, her gently cooing voice a soft reverberation through the quiet.

"Alright, I'm off."

"Are you taking anyone with you?" Accepting her husband's proffered hand, Wakana rises, fingers splayed over Rikuo's back to keep his dozing body steady.

"Not this time. After all this talk of war and conquest, I think everyone needs a chance to cool off, myself included." With a pat to his blade, Rihan follows the pair onto the veranda. "I'll be back soon."

"Be safe." Exchanging a final kiss, Wakana coos to their son as she watches Rihan disappear into the night, chuckling as he playfully salutes her over his shoulder.

* * *

As the day concludes and the sun sets, the city transforms. Before Rihan's eyes and in his blood, humanity retreats into the shadows, allowing the night to take control. The Bakenekoya opens its doors, and ayakashi from all corners of the area flock to its warm lights, their lively chatter bringing a smile to the commander's lips as numerous denizens call out in greeting. Ryota Neko offers him a drink from the doorway, and Rihan politely declines.

"I have a wife waiting for me," he explains to their inquiries. "I'd rather spend the night embracing her than a cold bottle of beer."

Those nearby burst into laughter, faking insult at his words, and Rihan promises to return another night as he traverses into the quieter sections of the town, Nenekirimaru propped against one shoulder. Before long, the raucous sounds of yokai nightlife dwindle into white noise, and Rihan is left alone to his thoughts.

_While boredom is certainly no excuse for war, I have to agree that the days have begun passing slowly. There aren't many willing to mess around these parts, and I suppose it would be a nice change of pace to receive some harmless excitement. _

"_Halt_, ayakashi!"

Speaking of harmless excitement...

The unexpected voice, startlingly young-sounding, causes Rihan to quirk an eyebrow. With deliberate lethargy, he twists his head to face the voice, only to find the streets empty. Tapping his sword against his shoulder, he surveys the area…

"I said don't move!"

…and finally lowers his chin to the ground, where a tiny form stands before him.

…_a child? _

"I've finally cornered you, Nurarihyon," she says, and Rihan's eyebrow climbs higher. "Now your reign of terror will end at my hands!"

The yokai commander slowly lowers himself into a crouch, bewilderment enveloping his features as he studies the young girl. Her short dark hair falls into bright brown eyes, and her pale baby's skin is draped in a garment that looks strangely familiar.

_Where have I seen those clothes before…?_ Sorting through his memory, Rihan waits for recollection to strike; when it does, it's with a blinding flash, and his eyes widen in shocked recognition.

_Impossible._

"_Hey_! Are you listening?!" With an irritated, the girl flails her billowing white sleeves to capture his attention, and he sights a flapping human-shaped piece of paper in her tiny hand and recalls a fragment of old information.

_Ofuda. Used to summon the beasts known as shikigami._

"An onmyoji," he murmurs into the empty air, the name sending him reeling back to that night's meeting. "Unbelievable."

"You _better _believe it, ayakashi. _Tanro_!"

With a lift of the child's arm, the ofuda between her fingers rustles to life, and Rihan gapes as a white wolf materializes at the girl's side, its tail bristling with warning, its fur swirled with ancient black lettering.

_How can a __**child**__ summon shikigami?_

Before he can think further, the wolf is on him, talons lengthened, teeth aimed for his throat. With a small leap, Rihan falls back several feet, face still open with surprise.

The child growls, mimicking her canine. "Hold still, you slippery snake! Tanro, _get him_!"

Arching its back, the wolf takes off in a sprint, its red eyes locked on Rihan's form as he waits, standing his ground in preparation for the right moment. Just as the wolf opens its maw, slobbering tongue lolling out the side, Rihan releases his Fear and dissolves into the shadows, leaving the shikigami to ram its fore paws into the concrete, its claws clacking loudly.

"_What?!"_ Rubbing her eyes, the girl looks around her, eyes whirling from one place to another, flabbergasted at her target's disappearance into thin air. As she makes a second sweep around her, a looming figure manifests itself before her, and she sees the gleaming blade at the yokai's shoulder. Imagining its arcing path coming down over her, she opens her mouth in a reflexive scream for Tanro's help…

_Plop._

Eyes squeezed shut, the child violently jumps when a large hand drops on her head, warm and heavy. She waits, expecting more, then gathers her remaining courage and slowly eases her eyes open, only to let out a loud yelp.

Rihan chuckles, his eyes crinkled in humor as he crouches in front of the girl, noting her strong vocals. _She's got a voice on her, for such a little thing._

"You alright?" he asks, watching as she regains her bearings with surprising swiftness. He blinks when she abruptly grabs his hand in both of hers and heaves it off her head, her small features scrunched in irritation; Rihan briefly recalls Rikuo's cheeks puffed in the same manner, and he smiles.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to be dead!"

"Am I?" Rihan plays along, head cocked innocently. "No one ever told me."

"_I_ did!"

Rihan pretends to think. "No, I don't think so. You spent most of your time talking to your dog over there." He turns to point a finger at the snarling animal, which looks ready to attack again.

"He's not a dog, he's a _wolf_!"

Rihan chuckles at the girl's angry response. "I see. My mistake."

"What did you do before?"

The hanyou blinks a second time, caught off guard at the rapid change in topic. "What?"

"What did you do before, when you went away?" The child points to the space where he stood seconds before.

Rihan follows her point. "Ah. That was my Fear."

The girl's face scrunches again, and he chuckles before placing his head back on her head. "If you want, I can tell you about it."

She reaches up to remove his hand again, her tiny fingers picking at his. "Why would I want to know what some _yokai_ does?"

"You say you wish to defeat Nurarihyon, yes?" Rihan smiles mischievously, watching the child's eyes widen with interest. Keeping her attention, he leans closer and lowers his voice to a whisper. "I'm not him, but if you let me go, I can tell you his secrets." He winks, placing a finger against his lips to indicate their confidentiality. "What do you say, great onmyoji?"

He can tell the girl is torn. She allows his hand to rest atop her black mop of hair, her small features furrowed with doubt. Rihan watches the conflict flit across her face and feels a surge of protectiveness, identical to what envelops him when thinking of his son. _Who would let this child out of their sight?_ _She is far too precious for such carelessness._

He smiles when the girl apparently comes to a decision and nods her head with conviction. "Tanro," she commands, and Rihan watches as the wolf trots to her side, tail swishing. "Don't hurt him yet," she says, and Rihan chuckles at the implication. When she looks at him, he regards her expectantly. "Okay," she says finally. "But you have to tell me Nurarihyon's secret weakness!"

He grins and ruffles the bangs shadowing her forehead. "It's a deal." Dramatically, the hanyou rises to his full height and bows formally. "I am Nura Rihan, your yokai expert for this evening. What might your name be, great onmyoji?"

"Keikain Yura," the girl announces definitively, and Rihan smirks at the obvious pride in her voice.

"How old are you, Yura-chan?" Sliding Nenekirimaru into his sash, Rihan lifts the hand from her head and holds it out to her. He waits patiently when she eyes the gesture suspiciously and looks to her shikigami. Apparently finding the wolf's presence encouraging, Yura lifts her hand and places it in his.

"Four and a half."

"Really?" Rihan taps his chin, setting a course for the way home. "I have a son your age."

"Is he yokai like you?"

"A little. But he's a good boy."

"How can a yokai be good?" Rihan lowers his chin to look at the girl walking with him. Her head is completely tilted back as she stares up at him, face pinched in confusion. He smiles.

"You'd be surprised at how gray the world really is, Yura-chan. There are very few things in life that are absolute."

"You sound like Jii-chan."

Rihan blinks down at the girl, surprised. "Your grandfather says such things?"

Yura nods, her short legs skipping to keep up with his longer strides. "He talks about gray stuff, too, but I don't know what he means."

_Perhaps the onmyoji aren't as different from us as we believed._ Noting Yura's struggling steps, Rihan bends down to grab her around the middle; Tanro emits a low growl in warning, but goes silent when the man sits the girl on its back. With a shake of its mane, the wolf accommodates its master, and Yura grabs fistfuls of fur to steady herself. Rihan nods, satisfied with the new arrangement. "Your grandfather sounds very wise."

"He's the _best_. _Way_ better than my elder brother." Yura's tone suggests irritation, and Rihan chuckles at her commentary. "…what's your son like?"

"Let's see…he likes running and jumping and eating sweets and playing jokes on his friends and family. And he's very loving and kind, with a big heart."

"He sounds nice...for a yokai."

Rihan smiles, noting the girl's uncertainty. "Yes. I think the two of you would get along very well."

"Really?" She looks doubtful.

"Absolutely."

"…maybe."

His smile widens. "Maybe."

As the two traverse the town streets, Rihan keeps his senses open in attention. Unbeknownst to his companion, he trails a cloud of Fear behind them, purposefully allowing it to disperse to the far corners of his territory in hopes it will attract the right people.

When he feels an answering ping against the web of power, he stops.

"What's wrong?" Yura twists herself on Tanro's back, looking around, and the wolf narrows its eyes, fur bristling.

"I believe your people just found us." Almost immediately after his announcement, a thrum of energy sounds in the air, and Rihan turns to face the group of onmyoji striding in his direction. Around their figures, yokai energy disperses in keen rejection of their presence, leaving a large hemisphere of mist-free space around them. At the edges of their own display of power, the fog coalesces again, a vain attempt at infiltration.

"Yura!"

"Nii-chan!" Yura tightens her grip on Tanro's fur and leans forward, and the wolf shakes its mane again.

To the side of the white-clad group, a young man steps forward, black spikes of hair brushing the collar of his equally dark robes, eyes narrowed. "You _idiot_! Where did you run off to?"

Almost immediately, the girl leans back again, face set in an angry pout. "_Moron_! I was hunting yokai!"

The boy _tsk_s, eyeing the hanyou with obvious contempt. "Guess you found one." Rihan offers him am amused smile.

"She was quite the little detective, the way she tracked me down." Yura straightens her back and lifts her chin at his praise.

"Yura." Behind the boy, an older man makes his way to the front of the group, his imposing figure cutting an easy path between his comrades. He eyes Rihan with a carefully blank face.

"_Jii-chan!_" Suddenly squirming, Yura releases her hold on Tanro's fur and swings herself off its shoulders, her little legs trying to reach the ground.

"Oi, _oi_." Reaching for her, Rihan helps ease her to the ground, barely touching her feet to the pavement before she jets across the yards separating them from her family. When she reaches the group, the tall man sweeps her into his arms, stoniness briefly forgotten as he holds the child close, his lined face briefly softening with tenderness. The others in the group also seem to permeate relief, and Rihan watches the scene with a smirk.

"Yokai." The leader returns his attention to the hanyou, and Rihan tilts his head in question. "You are the son of the Lord of Pandemonium Nurarihyon, yes?"

"Nura Rihan, at your service," he confirms, casually pushing his arms into the sleeves of his kimono and smiling charmingly. "Did my dashing looks tip you off?"

"Then this is your territory, correct?" Rihan frowns in mock disappointment when the man blatantly ignores him.

"It is. Which begs the question why I found a baby onmyoji wandering my streets. Not that I didn't enjoy her company."

"Jii-chan," Yura says, her small arms wrapped around her grandfather's neck. "He talks like _you_, about gray stuff! And he said he knew Nurarihyon's secrets!" The girl pouts. "Even though he didn't tell me any."

Her brother scoffs. "You believed some yokai, Yura?"

The girl sticks her tongue out. "Better than believing _you_, Nii-chan!"

Their grandfather ignores the squabble. "You would lie to a child, Nura Rihan?"

"If it means returning her to her home, yes." He maintains eye contact with the man, standing firm.

"You _lied_?!" Yura's cheeks redden in anger, and Rihan breaks the stare long enough to chuckle and wag his finger.

"Patience, Yura-chan. I made you a deal, and I have kept my end."

The child furrows her brow in puzzlement. "Then what's Nurarihyon's greatest weakness?"

Rihan smirks, his amber gaze secretive. "One of these days, I want you to meet my son. You and he would make quite the pair of troublemakers, I think."

"Forget _that_! What's the _secret_?!"

"That's enough, Yura." When the girl falls silent, the man turns back to the yokai commander. "We recently had a confrontation near your territory. We were returning from a mission in the mountains when the demons' allies ambushed us."

"I see." _And so the rumor mill began spinning._

"These ayakashi were apparently enemies of yours, as well, judging by the slandering they did to your name in our midst. Regardless, we did not intend to cause unnecessary commotion."

"I understand." Rihan smirks. "While your skirmishes did cause quite a stir among our ranks, there was no permanent harm done."

"Too bad," the dark-clad boy mutters, and Rihan offers him a wink that sends him scowling.

"Then there is nothing more to discuss. I thank you for watching over my granddaughter. Sometimes the child is too enthused for her own good."

Rihan smiles, watching the girl attempt to fix her shoe around her grandfather's hold. "She's something special. A real gem, I'd say."

"I am more than aware, but I thank you for the accolade." Turning to his group, Keikain Hidemoto sounds a command. "Let's head out."

Rihan remains still as the unit retreats the way it came, as inconspicuous as it appeared. Just as he prepares to continue on his way, a high-pitched shout sends him looking over his shoulder.

"Yokai-san!" Yura calls from her grandfather's arms, tiny hands gripping his haori. "Tell your son I said 'hi'!" Her inflection makes it sound more like a command than a request.

The hanyou grins fondly, releasing a hand from his kimono sleeve to wave. "Take care, onmyoji girl."

* * *

"What story are you gonna tell, Papa?" Rikuo looks up from his seat in his father's lap, the pink petals of the sakura tree landing on the boy's pudding-colored bangs. Rihan stares into the tree's sunlit branches, lips quirking in amusement as he rubs a hand over the child's head, dislodging the clinging flora.

"For you, my son, I have a tale of savage beasts, invaluable treasures, and handsome swordsmen, named Rihan, of course." He winks, grinning at his son's wide, captivated eyes. "And I call it…_The Great Onmyoji_."


End file.
